All God's Men
by dragonwriter24cmf
Summary: The Darkness has risen, and the world is ending. The Winchesters and their friends search frantically for a way to stop the destruction. But with Death and all four archangels gone, who is left? Will they and their allies be enough? Or, with the Original Evil running rampant and the destruction of the world at hand, Will God finally step forward? Season 11 AU.
1. Prologue: The Darkness Rises

**All God's Men**

 **Prologue:**

Outside a broken down, abandoned cantina, the Darkness erupted from the earth. Springing forth from ancient confinement, it boiled out of the ground, collected, and poured like a tidal wave across the Earth.

Half a mile from it's point of origin, it swept around a black Chevy Impala. Inside, Sam and Dean cowered against the seats. Dean's hands were clenched uselessly on the wheel, tires throwing up mud and water and no traction whatsoever. Sam's hands clenched at the dashboard, his expression a mask of shocked horror. Both of them watched helplessly as black fog, the color of concentrated demon smoke and a thousand times more malevolent, rushed around them. Dean swore in a choked voice. "Son of a bitch..."

Several miles away, Castiel and Crowley froze, locked in combat. Black fury slammed into their senses, and angel and demon shuddered in simultaneous horror at the sudden awareness of an evil so black that Lucifer and the Leviathan combined couldn't have compared. Castiel retched violently, doubled over as he fell away from Crowley, angel blade clattering to the floor as pure evil assaulted his senses.

Crowley shuddered, gasped, crossed himself in a way he hadn't done since meeting Cain almost two years ago. "Holy mother of sin...what in bloody Hell is that?"

Not far away, Rowena felt the Book of the Damned heat in her arms, almost glowing with dark energy. Her own innate magic hummed with the power of evil boiling up somewhere distant. "Well now...isn't that interesting?" She kept walking, clutching the book to her.

Miles and miles distant, holed up in a small abandoned room, a man who had once been Metatron, Voice of God, and now posed as Marvin, homeless scholar, looked up from an ancient tablet he was studying with something like surprise. Something unpleasant curled his expression. "Well, talk about your plot twist..." His fingers traced the writing etched into the stone. "I wonder..."

Miles away in a different direction, a slender man with hazel eyes, a man who had once been called a prophet, looked up in trepidation. There was no surprise or fear in his eyes, only resignation, determination, and a touch of sadness.

In the bowels of Hell, demons reacted with mingling shock and awe and wonder, and debated fiercely what their King had done to produce such an incredible outpouring of power.

Deep in the darkest depths, in a cage of hell-fire and nightmares, two archangels who had been trapped for eons of hell time shuddered as one.

In the halls of Heaven, angels flinched. Then they turned to their leader. "Commander...what has happened?"

Hannah had no answers. But she knew the name of one who might. "Find Castiel. He is on Earth. And send observers to gather any information you can. Find out if Metatron is behind this." She wouldn't put it past the vanished angel, now that he'd been broken out of Heaven's jail. Angels departed on their assignments, and Hannah turned her attention to Earth. She had a terrible intuition. This darkness rising was so much more evil than even the release of Lucifer and Castiel's release of the Leviathan had been. She had a sudden fear that not even the Apocalypse could compare to what had been unleashed. She only wished she knew what that was.

The Darkness rose, and rolled over the Earth.


	2. Chapter 1: Patching Back Together

**Chapter** **One:** **Patching** **Back** **Together**

It seemed like the roiling black cloud went on forever. But finally it dissipated, leaving the Impala sitting in a muddy track next to an abandoned cantina, underneath a sky the color of winter storms and tornado seasons.

Ten minutes after that, Dean managed to unclench his hands from the steering wheel. Sam managed to raise his head from where he'd ducked on reflex. Dean turned to regard his brother. "So much for nothing happening, Sammy."

"Yeah, I guess." Sam grimaced. Then he looked his brother in the eyes. "Hey, you'd leave the gates of Hell open and pick up the Mark of Cain. Apparently I'd unleash the forces of Darkness. Call it even."

Dean snorted a choked off laugh. "Yeah, well I ganked Death for you, so you owe me, bitch." He shook his head. "Gank Death and release the Darkness. I swear, sounds like a bad horror movie." His nerves were singing with adrenaline and the stress of the past hour, and he felt dangerously giddy.

Sam laughed, a shaky weak laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. "Jerk." he sighed, mirth vanishing as quickly as it had come. "I'm thinking, something like this...our best bet is probably to head back to the warehouse we were working out of. If nothing else, Cas should be there. He might have some ideas. Or at least information. And maybe the Book of the Damned has some clues?"

"Maybe. It had a spell to take out the Mark of Cain." Dean sighed. "Don't get me wrong Sam, I get it, but still..."

"Don't even start again with all that Mark of Cain, and your destiny and all that crap. Or I will seriously hit you." Sam glared at his brother. "We both know how this works Dean. One brother gets in trouble, the other one screws the fucking world to save him. It's basically our modus operandi by now, so...maybe this time we can skip the melodramatic 'you shouldn't have' and all that crap? I mean...all jokes aside, we're pretty even on the scoreboard for this one, and we're gonna need to stick together if we wanna have even a prayer of dealing with this, especially if it's as bad as Death told you it was."

Dean sat still for a moment, then nodded. "Yep. You're right. One thing though..." He looked at his brother. Sorrow filled his eyes. "I'm sorry I beat you up so bad Sammy. I really am. And...those pictures..."

"Yeah, yeah. I stole them from your room. And I kinda deserved it for lying to you." Sam prodded a swollen point on his jaw and winced. "I think it's died down for a while, so let's get the Impala out of that pothole and go pick up Cas."

Dean glanced at the darkened sky, then shoved his door open. "Sure."

It took fifteen minutes of shoving to get the Impala out of the muddy pothole and back to firm ground. Sam took another two minutes to dig through the trunk until he found the medical kit, then settled himself into the passenger seat to start tending to the wounds on his face. Dean settled in behind the wheel, taking a moment to run his hands over smooth leather and metal.

He'd left the car behind for Sam when he went to summon Death, and he hadn't thought he'd ever see her again.

After a moment he gunned the engine and turned the car around. "Okay, where to?"

Sam gave him the name of the town, two states over, then went back to gingerly putting anti-septic on his face. Dean watched him for a moment. "You finish with that, you get some shut-eye. You look like shit."

Sam snorted. "Not much worse than you."

"Yeah. But I'm driving. Plus, I had super-powers working for me. And I'm not the one who got beat all to crap in there. You've been running on adrenaline and cheap nasty food I bet." Dean shot his brother a look. "I'll wake you when I need to pull off, but I'm good."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure." Dean turned his attention to the road, fired up the car, and started for the nearest highway.

Sam waited for a few minutes until the Impala went from rutted dirt road to a smoother paved one, then returned to attending to the bruises on his cheek. After a few minutes, he shut the kit, threw it back into the back seat, and leaned back with his eyes closed. A few minutes later, his breathing had evened out into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Dean watched him out of the corner of his eye. The bruises on Sam's face were purpling fast, and he was willing to bet his brother would have a bad time moving his jaw when he woke up. He was lucky Sam knew how to roll with the punches, or he'd have shattered his jaw and cheekbone.

Exactly like Cas.

Dean swallowed hard. He remembered in vivid, horrible detail, the beating he'd given the angel. The feel of Cas's wrist snapping in his hand as he wrenched the angel's arm around and out of it's socket. The brutal elbow to the face. The way he'd sucker-punched him, kneed him in the gut hard enough to crack ribs, then thrown Cas into the pile of books without a second thought.

The way he'd slammed him face first into the oak table over and over again, then thrown him to the floor, wrenched his angel blade away, and nearly stabbed him.

The way Cas hadn't fought him, except to try and hold him, or to defend himself from those merciless blows.

Cas's broken plea for him to stop, weak fingers on his wrist, his voice a hoarse whisper around the blood bubbling in his throat and from his nose and lips. The way he'd left the angel lying there, his parting words a threat that next time he really would kill him.

At the time, all he'd felt was that cold, merciless anger, the deep rooted violence that drove him. Now...

Cas had been right. The Mark had changed him. Now that it was gone, he could feel how deep the taint had been. The warping of his perspective. Cas was right. Before the Mark, he wouldn't have shot the kid. He wouldn't have beaten the angel. He wouldn't have threatened to kill Sam. He wouldn't have even considered trying to kill Sam.

He'd been so angry after the incident with the angel tablet, angry at the way Cas had run, the way he'd vanished. So cold to the angel, so cutting, vicious with his words when he wasn't ignoring him all together. But if what he felt now was how Cas had felt after that crypt fight, then he couldn't blame the angel for running.

He wanted to run away too. He half hoped Cas would forgive him as Sam had, half hoped the angel would beat the hell out of him in payback. He wondered if Cas had told Sam about the fight. Sam hadn't given him any indication.

He clenched his hands on the wheel, and forced himself to focus on the road.

***AGM***

Dean drove for three hours, until the gas gauge was on empty and his stomach was growling, then pulled into the first gas station he saw. Sam woke up as he cut the engine. "Dean?"

"Pit stop Sammy." He frowned. "You got a card or anything? I kinda burned up all my cash earlier." He'd spent the last of it getting the supplies to cook for Death. He hadn't figured he'd need it any more after that.

Sam nodded and fished into a pocket. "Yeah. Just got two new ones." He held up a card. "You wanna fill the car or pick up the food?"

The idea of going in there, of being near people, made his stomach flip uncomfortably. "I'll pump the gas. Get whatever looks good." Sam nodded and ducked out of the car.

Half an hour later, they were back on the road, cold sodas and cheap gas station food in hand. Sam had even gotten him a cheeseburger from the small attached restaurant. It was a pretty pathetic cheeseburger, with a thin patty, single slice of cheese and nowhere near enough onions, but he hadn't eaten one in forever, and it was just about the best damn thing he'd ever tasted. The Mark and his time as a demon had dulled his sense of taste, among other things. He enjoyed every bite, and every swallow of the soda Sam gave him.

Sam watched him eat, took his trash, then set the bag carefully to one side. "So...you wanna talk about it?"

Dean winced. "Talk about it? About what, Sam?"

"About anything. How you feel now, anything that happened under the Mark's influence, the weather...anything." Sam gestured.

Dean didn't even want to think about it. Still, he needed to know. To know if Sam knew what all he'd done. "You heard about the Stynes?"

"You slaughtered them. All of them. Cas mentioned it, yeah."

Dean swallowed. "Last of them was just a kid. He didn't even want to be there. He was just some geeky little nerd, looked like he would have been more at home cataloging our library, instead of burning it." He swallowed again, hands clenched on the steering wheel and eyes on the road because he couldn't look at his brother. "I shot him right between the eyes, while he was begging for his life."

"It was the Mark. And you were upset about Charlie's death. Cas told me." Sam sighed, shifted in his seat. "Look, I'm not going to pretend it's not bad. I'm not going to pretend it won't haunt you, probably for a long time. But if you're expecting me to get all huffy and disgusted and demand that you pull over so I can get out, or if you're expecting me to throw you out of the bunker when we get back...not happening Dean." Sam shrugged. "I've done as bad. I've done worse. I'm not in the mood for playing 'who's the monster' right now."

Dean let himself absorb that for a minute. Then he spoke again. "Did Cas tell you what happened when he tried to stop me from leaving?"

Sam shifted. "Only that he didn't succeed."

"Did you see him?"

"I saw him when I got there. Didn't look any different than he usually does." Sam turned to look at him. "Why?"

"Cause the last time I saw Cas, he looked worse than you do now." Dean clenched his jaw. "I damn near shoved his own angel blade into his throat, Sam. And he didn't fight back." His jaw clenched tighter. "He didn't want to hurt me."

"Sounds like Cas." Sam's voice was quiet. His brother sat for a minute, then shrugged again. "You'll have to take your issues on that up with Cas, Dean. I can't say anything."

"I guess so." Dean sighed, and let silence fall over the Impala.

They drove through the night, switching off and fueling up as needed. Neither of them felt like stopping. The urgency the Darkness cast over both of them was only magnified when Sam called Cas and received no answer. Finally, in the murky light of a storm-tossed dawn, they pulled up at the warehouse.

Sam got out first, knocked on the door. "Cas? Cas, you in there?" No answer.

The two brothers shared a look, then pulled their pistols free of their belts. Sam nudged the door open, and the two of them descended the stairs.

The main section of the warehouse looked like a supernatural nightmare, or a set for a bad horror movie. The spell-work table/altar was still upright in the middle of the room, the cold ashy bowl, burnt out candles and spell components evidence of the ritual to remove the Mark. Next to the table was the body of a young man, tall with curly blond hair and a mangled hole in his neck, dead eyes wide and surprised and hurt. And nearer to the door, two familiar forms, one in black, one in a tan trench-coat, both liberally blood splattered.

Sam dropped his pistol to rest position and bolted into the room to kneel by Castiel's prone form. "Cas!"

"Stop your yelling Moose. Your homicidal maniac of an angelic puppy is still alive." Crowley shifted, winced visibly, then opened Crossroad-red eyes. He blinked, and the color returned to the dark green that was his human eye color.

Sam turned a heated look on the demon. "What the hell did you do to him? And why are you even here?"

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." Crowley grimaced. He tilted his head back to look at Dean. "Squirrel. Unmarked, I hope."

"Yeah. Now answer his question." He tilted his head at his brother.

Crowley grimaced again. "My dear mother, whom I will take great pleasure in torturing to death as soon as I can get my hands on her, cast the spell to remove the Mark, then used the residual energy to cast another spell. She bound me, then turned Castiel over there into something like a mindless, rabid attack dog and set him on me. She then disappeared with the Book of the Damned."

Dean scowled. "How the hell could a witch cast a spell that would effect an angel, or the King of Hell? Witches don't have that kind of juice."

Crowley scowled. "Book of the Damned aside...my mother is not an ordinary witch. If you two boys had done your homework on the skanky whore, you'd know that she's one of the only witches alive who has natural magic. She doesn't need a rite or a demon deal for her powers, and that is exactly why she's more powerful than any other witch alive."

"Fine. Rowena is extra-powerful. But why are you even here?" Sam didn't budge from Castiel's side.

Crowley snorted. "Because your darling feathered poster boy asked me to assist in gathering the spell components. Apparently the damaged wings make it inconvenient to go hunting for things all around the world. Since he asked nicely, and since one of the requirements was making my mother sacrifice something she actually loved, which I admit I found amusing, I agreed. End of story." He grimaced again, hand going to the torn cloth over his chest. "She took offense to that, hence the spell."

Dean sighed, then holstered his pistol and knelt beside the demon, pulling him roughly into a sitting position. Crowley made a low noise in the back of his throat, but didn't fight him as Dean checked his wounds. There was a lot of dried blood, but the wounds themselves were healed to angry red lines. "At least one of you has some courtesy. And gratitude."

Dean huffed. "Yeah, whatever. I'm just getting a crick staring down at you." He glanced at Castiel. "So, Rowena mojo'd you and set Cas on you. Why are you still here, Crowley?"

"Because it took most of my bloody power to break Mother's spells, and keep myself from being slashed to ribbons and internally barbecued. Not to mention that bloody awful surge of whatever the hell it was." He glanced at the angel. "I can't complain, considering it changed your flightless wonder over there from an attack dog to a puking wretch. But you boys should know, something's come into this world. Something that makes Lucifer look like a bloody Boy Scout." His expression settled into a serious, almost worried expression. "Whatever's been let loose, I'd rather be in Hell as a new soul than one of you lads on the surface."

Cas chose that moment to make a small noise. Sam immediately hoisted the angel into a sitting position, leaning Cas's head against his shoulder. "Cas? Cas, you okay?"

The angel rolled his head, blinked twice, and made a face. "No. My mouth is foul and I hurt." He reached up one hand to rub his head. "Rowena, she did something to me. To me and Crowley." He looked up, frowned when he saw the King of Hell. "You aren't dead."

"No thanks to Mother." Crowley made a face.

Dean nodded. "You're lucky you're a full on angel again. That attack dog spell usually liquefies it's victim's entrails. No surprise you're a little sore."

Castiel's eyes flew to him, still crouched near the demon. His eyes widened, then warmed. "Dean."

"Cas." Dean swallowed. He didn't know what to say to the angel. Finally, he held up his arm. "No Mark."

Cas's eyes warmed further. A smile touched the corner of his mouth. "That's good. I'm glad."

Dean managed a ghost of his usual smirk. "You and me both, Cas."

Crowley watched the exchange. "You two...I tell you that a force of darkness and evil great enough to make me want to vacate the planet has emerged, and you just sit there trading small talk with an angel." His gaze flickered between the two hunters. "You know something. The pair of you know something about what just happened."

Dean sighed. He locked eyes with Sam, exchanging a silent communication with his brother. It felt good. They hadn't been able to communicate like that, to understand each other like that, since before Gadreel. Sam looked uncomfortable, but resigned. Dean nodded.

"We know a few things, yeah. But before we get to that, I got a question for you." He looked at the angel leaning against his brother. "Cas, I need to know everything you know about the Darkness."

 _ **Author's Note:** Up next, information gathering, and some explanations given to the angel and demon..._


	3. Chapter 2: What Darkness Is

**Chapter** **Two:** **What** **Darkness** **Is**

Castiel's brow furrowed. "The darkness? I know it's the absence of light, most prevalent after nightfall or in enclosed spaces..."

"Not the technical definition." Sam spoke quietly. "He means the Darkness, like something God supposedly conquered at the dawn of time."

"Oh." Castiel blinked. "That's a very old story. It's even in Genesis of your Bible, before the coming of Man. The Bible speaks of it briefly." He tilted his head. "And God separated the darkness from the light, and it was morning and evening of the first day." He glanced at them. "It's a very simplified version."

"Yeah. We got that. We heard there was some sort of major fire-fight about the whole thing." Dean settled back on his heels, he and Sam relaxing.

"There was a great battle, yes. According to the records of Heaven, God, the archangels, and the firstborn third of the Heavenly Host engaged the Darkness in combat. It was defeated and locked away from the rest of Creation by our Father, the key entrusted to his most valued lieutenant. Lucifer." Castiel grimaced. "Of course, after Lucifer's Fall, there are no records of the key, it's appearance or how it functioned. Many surmise it was involved in the creation of Hell, but..."

"Of course it was bloody involved in the founding of Hell." Crowley snorted. "Honestly, asking an angel about the Darkness...might as well ask an orangutan about quantum physics."

Castiel glared at him. "I suppose you know more."

Crowley smirked. "Of course I do. Every demon does. That's the whole point of being a demon, champ."

Sam frowned. "Explain that."

Crowley sneered at him. "Ask me nicely Moose."

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment. Then Sam huffed and looked away, practicality winning over his temper. "Fine. I'm sorry I tried to kill you. I did it because Rowena refused to translate the Book of the Damned and help Dean unless I made the attempt, okay? Now, could you please explain what you meant about demons and the Darkness."

Crowley stared at him a moment longer. "You called me a monster."

Sam snorted. "You got my brother trapped with the Mark of Cain and turned him into a demon, just because _you_ wanted a drinking buddy."

"I helped you free him. If it weren't for me, your brother would still be Marked." Crowley's voice was hard and angry.

Sam grimaced, then visibly reined himself in again. "Fine. Thank you for helping save Dean. I apologize for calling you a monster."

"Huh." Crowley blinked. Then he huffed out a breath of air. "Didn't expect it to be that easy to get through your thick skull, Moose." His gaze flickered between Dean and Sam. "Something's going on."

"Yeah. It is. So how about you spill that info already, and maybe we'll fill you in on what all's been happening in the wider world." Dean sat back on his heels. "Come on Crowley, you got your apology. Don't make me draw a Devil's Trap on you now."

Crowley snorted. "Kinky, but I'm not in the mood. Some other time perhaps, Squirrel." He rolled his shoulder, then shifted position to get a little more comfortable. The red lines were fading fast, leaving unmarked skin, but he was still clearly drained. "The Darkness is what makes a demon a demon."

Dean nodded. "How?"

Crowley grimaced. "Every demon since the dawn of time started out as a human. Human souls, even monster souls, they're bright, you understand? They're energy, but it's light energy."

"Every human soul carries the light God gave them." Castiel had shifted to sit up as well, pushing himself away from Sam's support with effort.

"Exactly." Crowley glanced at both Winchesters. "Now, I know you boys know what goes on in Hell." Both of them nodded. "The whole point of it all, all the torture, all the violence and degradation and temptation, the whole point of the entire process, is to bend and break that soul until the light can be dimmed. Snuffed out, until what's left is a sort of...void, a cloud, filled with all the negative feelings, all the pain, all the anger, all the need. That's the Darkness. It's what exists when you destroy everything worthwhile, completely obliterate everything decent in a being, and fill it up with nothingness." He grimaced. "More unpleasant than it sounds, believe me."

Dean nodded. "So...demon smoke..."

"Proof that a soul's completed the transition. The further along, the darker the smoke, until it goes black."

Sam scowled. "Yours is red though."

Crowley smirked. "I'm a special kind of demon." He shrugged. "King of Hell, darlings. It changes a man."

Castiel spoke up. "According to the records of Heaven, the Darkness is a sentient force. And a powerful one."

Crowley snorted. "Of course it is. If it weren't, demons would all be vegetables. Most souls forget their own names before the process is even half done, let alone the full package." He breathed out, then glanced down at his clothing. One moment, it was torn and bloody, the next, his suit was immaculate. Crowley grimaced. "Lucifer introduced a diluted fragment of the Darkness to the world when he corrupted Man in the garden. How the hell he managed that no one knows, except Lucifer himself. Just like no one's sure how or why the demon transformation process works. It does, that's all any demon's ever bothered about."

"According to Heaven, the Darkness is capable of multiplying, growing. But if there are any records on how to stop it, they've been lost for eons." Cas frowned.

"Awesome." Dean sighed. "So it's a sentient force that basically twists and warps what it gets a hold of."

Sam was frowning in contemplation. "Sanctified blood can cure a demon, bring the human soul back to life. Would that be sufficient to slow down the Darkness?"

"No idea. But a human soul is _meant_ to be light and fuzzy, so I have my doubts. You can't restore something that was never there, Moose. Though you might restore what it corrupts, if you work fast enough, and I imagine the usual deterrents, salt, holy water, so forth, probably have some effect." Crowley fixed a sleeve. "So then, why all the questions about the Darkness lads?"

Sam's mouth tightened as he rose to his feet. "Dean, can I talk to you a moment?"

"Sure." Dean stood and joined his brother outside the door. "What are you thinking?"

Sam sighed. "We need to tell Cas what's going on. But Crowley? Dean, that's playing with fire."

"Yeah. It is. But he knows more than we do, apparently even more than Cas does." Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "He helped us out with all the other nasty stuff. Leviathans, Lucifer, Abaddon...he seems to have a tendency to help on anything nastier than he is."

"Yeah, but the Darkness...how is that bad for him? It could make him more powerful. And he's pretty damn dangerous already." Sam rolled his shoulders in a fidgeting, restless motion. "And he did set you up with the Mark of Cain."

Dean nodded. "But he also got it off me. And you know he's not gonna leave without us telling him something. Besides...it's Crowley. He'll probably figure it all out on his own, then get pissed at us for not telling him." The months working with the demon, combined with all the years of working against him, had given him a lot more insight into the way Crowley operated. "We can't handle any more enemies, Sam. And it's better we know now if he's gonna stand with us, against us, or neutral."

Sam sighed, then relaxed. "Fine. But he makes one wrong move..."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get back in there before the two of them get enough energy to come find us." Dean breathed out, then shoved the door open again.

Crowley had moved himself to a chair, and Castiel had made it upright, though the angel still looked a little pale. Crowley smirked. "Family conference all done then?"

"Yeah. All done." Dean moved to stand in front of both of the supernatural entities. "Sam and I both agree: We're just gonna lay it all on the table. Pretty sure it's stupid, especially with you..." He shot Crowley a glare. "But we've got no better options."

"I'm all ears." Crowley sat back.

Castiel nodded, a frown creasing his brow. "Dean...what is it?"

Dean took a deep breath. "Turns out, the Mark of Cain was the lock and key for however God sealed the Darkness away. No Mark equals no key. And no lock."

Crowley went from lounging to bolt upright faster than Dean could blink. "Repeat that." He stood, his hands moving in agitation. "I thought I heard you say that the Mark of Cain was the only thing keeping the original source of all evil in this world from escaping into the universe. And we just destroyed it."

"Pretty much."

"You mentioned you felt a surge. That's what it was. The Darkness was released when the Mark of Cain was destroyed." Sam met Crowley's eyes.

"Of all the bloody...how in Hell...why did no one mention this _before_ we obliterated the bloody thing?" Crowley had actually gone pale, face twisted in rage and shock.

"How can you be sure that's what happened?" Castiel was calmer, but his brow was furrowed, and his shoulders were tense. "There are no records pertaining to the Mark of Cain..."

"I bet there were. Metatron told me once that the river begins at the source. I thought he meant Lucifer. But if the Darkness is the source of all evil, and that's the source of the Mark...it fits." Dean shrugged. "Besides, my source for the information is pretty damn reliable."

Castiel blinked. "Who?"

Dean forced himself to meet the angel's gaze. "I asked Death. I was gonna ask him to kill me, or remove the Mark so I couldn't hurt anyone. He's the one who told me about the Mark and the Darkness and Lucifer. How it corrupted him, and everything else."

Castiel's eyes darkened, but he nodded. "Death would know. Unfortunately, it was before most of the Heavenly Host came into existence, and certainly before my own time." His lips pinched tight, expression one of intense concentration. "Unfortunately, all the archangels and most of the elder angels are dead. The only angel who might know anything further would be Joshua." Castiel's shoulders shifted. "But no one has spoken to him since the Apocalypse, at least not that I've heard of." Castiel shifted again. "God, of course..." He let the words trail away, a shadow of pain in his eyes.

"Figures." Dean grimaced. The whole of creation was about to be snuffed out, and God and the hired help were MIA.

Cas was still thinking aloud. "It's dangerous, but we may wish to summon Death for more information."

Ice settled in Dean's stomach. "Yeah, well, that won't be possible."

Crowley smirked. "Why? Threaten you again, did he?"

"He told me to kill Sam. Said if I wanted his help, Sammy had to die."

"And you wouldn't sacrifice Sam. Of course." Castiel nodded.

Dean rolled his shoulder. "It's a bit more complicated than that. He said I had to do it or he would, so I went and ganked him first."

Crowley jolted again. "Say that again."

Dean met his eyes. "I said, I killed Death. Used his own damn scythe and ran it straight through him, watched him crumble into ashes."

 _ **Author's Note:** Bombshell...but at least everyone's on the same page._


	4. Chapter 3: Complicated Situation

**Chapter** **Three:** **Complicated** **Situation**

There was silence for a long moment. Then Crowley paced forward, one long slow step. "You...killed...Death. The Grim Reaper. The last Horseman."

"Yeah. I did." Dean held the demon's gaze.

"Of all the bloody...stupid...insane...do you have any idea exactly how badly you've screwed things up?" Crowley was seething.

Dean's gaze heated. "Hey. Wasn't that many years ago, you thought taking out Death was a good idea. In fact, as I recall, you were the one who gave me the scythe in Chicago."

"That was when I thought his destruction was the key to saving the world, not when he was the only person with information that would offer any possible chance of saving it! You bloody, hare-brained...moron." Crowley's teeth ground together. "With Death off the playing field, not only is our best source of information gone, but the only thing controlling the Reapers is gone as well! And who in hell knows what they'll do!"

"Death's demise does...greatly complicate the situation." Castiel's voice was tight. "There is no leader for the Reapers, other than he. Technically, they should still be able to function, however, depending on how much of their power relied upon his existence...this may create unanticipated difficulties."

"I guess." Sam's brow furrowed. "But I thought demons gathered the souls that are damned. And we already knew from Kevin and Tessa that all Heaven-bound souls were trapped in the Veil."

"And now all the Purgatory bound souls will be as well. If you thought trapped human spirits were dangerous...imagine a vampire soul. Or a werewolf. With Death dead, and no successor to his power chosen, individual reapers may not have the power to transport the souls of monsters through the barrier."

"Son of a bitch." Dean paled.

"Exactly. In a worst case scenario..." Castiel frowned. "In a worst case scenario, where the Reaper's abilities are totally dependent on Death's existence, no one would be able to die at all. Which also means that defeating the Darkness by killing any vessels it inhabits would also be impossible."

"Son of a bitch." Sam sat down abruptly against the wall. "We didn't even think about that."

"You didn't bloody well think at all!" Crowley snarled the words out. "Bloody Winchesters, and your bloody obsession with each other!"

"Yeah, well, it's done. And right now, we got other problems to deal with." Dean moved between Crowley and Sam. "For better or worse, Death is dead, and the Darkness is overtaking the world." He locked eyes with his brother. "And we need to figure out what the hell we're doing next."

Cas joined them. "I will, of course, inform Hannah and the rest of the angels. But with the Gates of Heaven still sealed shut, the angels will have difficulty responding. The portal is...very limited, as are our powers while we are on Earth."

"That's great. Well, we'll do what we can with what we have." Dean rolled his shoulders. He was almost relieved to have everything in the open.

Crowley broke in with an irritable snort. "Yes, yes, plans to be made and all that. But perhaps we might want to do our planning somewhere a little less drafty and a little more secured."

Sam blinked, head jerking back as he got back to his feet. "We?"

"Of course we." Crowley gave him a long, dark look. "Assuming you idiots are telling the truth, you've just unleashed a force that makes the Leviathans and the Apocalypse look like a bloody parade. And if you think, for one moment, that I'm going to let that...that bloody evil take over while I'm in charge of Hell, then both of you seriously need to get your heads out of your arses and clean the muck out of what passes for your minds." The glower intensified. "To say nothing of the fact that my mother is out there with the Book of the Damned. I don't know if the Darkness will have any affect on her, but that bitch was powerful enough without the worlds darkest spell-book at her fingertips. And since you two imbeciles were part of setting her up with it, you owe it to me to help me separate her from the cursed thing."

Castiel winced uncomfortably. "There's another problem. I don't know if Sam told you..." he glanced hesitantly at Dean. "When we forced Metatron to return my Grace, I had to take him to it's physical location. And...he had the Demon Tablet there as well. I managed to get my Grace back, but he escaped with the tablet. He's human, so he can't use it the way he could use the angel tablet, but Metatron is nothing if not resourceful, and very dangerous."

"Lovely." Crowley threw up his hands in exasperation.

Dean scowled. "Fan-freakin-tastic. You hiding any other secrets from me?"

"No. I swear Dean. No more secrets." Sam held up his hands in a placating gesture. "If it helps, we have Metatron's Grace. We can...use it as bait, or as leverage if we need to."

"Thank Lucifer for small favors." Crowley grumbled the words. "So boys, on the matter of my inclusion into this little club of yours, are we dealing or not?"

Sam turned back to him, measuring him with a level stare. "Why are you so eager to be a part of this? You said earlier you'd rather be damned than dealing with this. And if the Darkness is so much a demon thing, I'm betting it could make you a lot more powerful. You were all about how you enjoyed the stuff you did before, so why would you pass up the chance to get a trump card like that?"

Crowley lunged forward, catching the taller man and shoving him backward. A flick of his free hand pinned Dean and brought a sword to his grip. He put it to Sam's throat and shot a heated glare at Castiel, freezing the angel in place. Then he turned back to the younger Winchester. "I let you live, and you're starting to make me really, really question that decision. So listen up, and listen well, you bloody fool, because I am only going to explain this once, and the next time you question me, I will gut you and feed you your own intestines, inch by bloody inch, understand?"

Sam didn't move. Crowley's eyes bored into his, dark and seething and violent, and somehow all the more frightening because he hadn't shifted them to Crossroads red.

Crowley spoke, his voice a heavy snarl that was barely louder than a whisper, but seemed to echo through the warehouse. "I _know_ the Darkness. I know exactly what it takes for it to take over a soul, what it does. You two think you have an idea what Hell is truly like, what becoming a demon is like, but you have no idea. _**None**_." The word forced it's way past gritted teeth. "You may have been in Hell, boys, but you, Samuel, got the VIP pass. And your brother? He got the express route. You can barely comprehend what Hell and demonic transformation is truly like." His hand clenched tighter in Sam's jacket.

Dean's voice was cold. "I spent forty years down there."

Crowley sneered at him, eyes burning. "Forty years, Hell time. I was damned 292 years ago, _human_ time. That's forever Squirrel. And unlike you, they didn't let me off the rack the first time I said yes. The first time I agreed to torture another soul...it wasn't the beginning of my freedom, it was the beginning of worse things than you can even _imagine_." His voice was sharp, ugly and hard. "I was on the racks for fifty years. Fifty _human_ years. Time beyond what your puny little minds can reckon. They did things to me that Alistair never even considered showing you, Winchester. I wasn't released from the racks until I could describe, in detail, all the different things I was willing to do to another soul. All the things you despise me for...that was my price for even an hour of peace, an hour of freedom. And even off the racks...it never ends in Hell. Never. Until you become powerful enough to fight back."

His glare raked over the three of them, hot as the fires of Hell itself. "If the Darkness takes over creation, every single soul will be corrupted. There won't be a Hell any more, because it will be indistinguishable from the rest of the universe. And every soul in it, angel, man, monster and demon, will endure everything that damnation has to offer, for all of eternity." His voice dropped to a low growl. "I worked too hard to escape that pit to go back to it. And I'd rather face Lucifer than the power that corrupted him." He turned his glare back to Sam. "So yes, Moose, I will help you and your brother. I will work with you, even though I absolutely _despise_ all three of you. Because, believe you me, the alternative is much, much worse." He released the blade in his hand. "Do we understand one another now?"

Sam nodded, as much as he was able with Crowley's fist in his jacket. "Yeah. I got the message."

"Fine." Crowley released him, then Dean. He turned away. "Then lets discuss the terms of this partnership, shall we?" He offered the three of them a wintry smile. "No offense, but I don't trust you lot."

"Yeah, well, the feeling's mutual." Dean moved forward to brace his brother. "Name your terms, and we'll name ours."

"Fine. Rule Number One. None of you is allowed to attempt to kill, exorcise, or maim me in any form or fashion. That includes dosing me on human blood, or any of that nonsense. And no getting a friend or acquaintance, or even a willing stranger, to do it for you."

Dean nodded. "Fair. But the same rule applies. You can't attempt to kill us, possess us, or send your little demon minions after us. And no trying to deal with, possess or kill any of our friends." he paused. "And no sending a monster or human or corrupted angel after us either."

"And another thing. You already admitted that Darkness is a part of demons. That means it might take you over. You go Dark on us, deal's off. We take you out, no repercussions." Sam's expression was stone-faced.

"Fine. As long as the same applies to you boys." He tilted his head. "Includes you, Castiel."

"Understood." The angel nodded.

"Second point. Unless the aforementioned slip into Darkness happens, no restraints. No bindings, no devil's trap. No locking me in the dungeon."

Dean scowled. "You really expect us to let you run around the Bunker at full power? Not a chance."

"A compromise. One restraint would hamper your ability to do harm, but not fully dampen your powers. Correct?" Castiel frowned. "Or I could use my own powers..."

"Not a chance. I'll not be at an angel's mercy." Crowley considered. "One bracelet. No chains." Sam started to protest, but Crowley held up a hand. "Show of good faith, Moose. Take it or leave it."

"We'll take it." Dean scowled at his brother, and Sam subsided.

"Good boys. Third item: If and when we catch up to Metatron, or otherwise reclaim the Demon Tablet...I want the blasted thing destroyed. It's too dangerous to my kind, and you boys already have more information than I want running around in the world. I know about the breaking of the Angel tablet. I want the same done for ours."

"Fine. Fair deal. We aren't exactly thrilled with having it loose either." Castiel scowled, but didn't object.

"Fourth item: If and when we catch up to my mother, Rowena, and retrieve the Book of the Damned...she and the Book are mine." Crowley's teeth flashed in a sharp smile.

"You want the witch-bitch, fair enough. The Book is a no deal. That thing's too dangerous to leave in demon hands." Dean's expression turned unyielding.

"It's too dangerous to leave in human hands too, darling." Crowley bared his teeth at the hunters.

Cas spoke up. "It may be possible to destroy the Book with an angel's powers. Even if it's not, there are places the Heavenly Host can store things that no other soul may access. I will have the Book either hidden or destroyed by my people."

Crowley grimaced. "Fine. If that's the best offer on the table...but I want to see it destroyed, if it's possible."

"I have no problem with that." Castiel nodded. "I will see that my brothers and sisters are informed of the arrangement."

Sam huffed impatiently. "Any other conditions?"

"Just one more." Crowley grinned unpleasantly. "No secrets. All information shared and shared alike."

"All information that pertains to defeating the Darkness. Personal is personal. And if it's irrelevant, then it's none of your business." Sam's tone was hard.

Crowley smirked. "Afraid I'll read your diary, Moose?"

Sam sneered back. "Want me to tell people how you reacted to your last shot of human blood during the trials?"

Crowley's smirk winced into a scowl. "Fine. Personal is personal. Work related information only, all around."

"Done. Anything else?" Dean scowled.

"Just the final arrangements." Crowley pulled out a scroll and a pen. "I want all three signatures, boys."

Castiel took the document and started scanning through it. After a minute and a half, he looked up. "There are no hidden traps or fine print on this." He took Crowley's pen and signed the parchment in red ink.

Dean signed next, then Sam, then Crowley. Light flared in the parchment. Crowley nodded in satisfaction. "That's that then. We're officially in business boys."

Dean sighed. "And thank God I don't have to kiss you."

 ** _Author's Note:_** _So...things are sort of settled...for now._


	5. Chapter 4: Regrouping

**Chapter** **Four:** **Regrouping**

Once Crowley stowed the contract in his suit jacket they cleaned up the spell remnants. With no time or energy for a burial, Cas simply torched the body of the young man. That done, they headed out to the parking area, to where Cas's gold car and the Impala sat waiting.

Dean sighed. "I'm taking the Impala. Cas, you driving or riding with us?"

"I will take my car. We may need extra vehicles at some point." Cas frowned at the overcast sky. His eyes went distant, then refocused. "I've sent a prayer to Hannah, to meet us at the Bunker."

"Great. Crowley, meet us there or riding with us?"

Crowley cocked a sardonic eyebrow. "Get in a car with the mad, vengeful Moose there? Not a chance darlings. I'll meet you at the home base. Besides, I need to check on Hell, see how it's been affected by the fuss." He vanished.

"Solves that problem. Let's get back. The sooner we're in, the sooner we can hit the books and sort out how we're gonna deal with this mess."

"Agreed." Castiel turned and strode to his car. Sam held out his hand for the keys, and Dean dropped them into his hand. He'd driven the last leg to the warehouse, and he was tired. They got in the car and pulled out, Cas following them as they pulled onto the main roads.

They rode for several minutes, before Sam broke the silence. "Dean, I know we have no idea what we're dealing with but...we should probably put the word out."

"Yeah, I know. But what the hell are we gonna tell people, huh? Sorry we unleashed the ultimate evil on the world and created a potential super-Apocalypse? We have no idea what to do, or how it's gonna manifest, but hey, watch yourselves? Cause that's not gonna fly real well. You and I both know that. I mean, look at what happened with the actual Apocalypse." Dean didn't bother to add that he was a pariah among the hunting community at the moment. After the way that job had gone down, the way he'd let a fellow hunter die just because he was too spaced out with the Mark to care... "I don't think we're gonna get a lot of sympathetic ears."

"Yeah I know. But...at least Jody and Garth. Jody's got Claire and Alex to worry about. And Garth...this could really screw up his pack. They need to know that trouble's coming."

Dean felt a twinge in his gut at the mention of Claire. Daughter of Castiel's vessel. Cas had practically adopted the kid, and she'd gotten pretty fond of the angel. She'd asked him to take care of Cas the last time they'd met.

The memory of the beating in the Bunker flashed before his eyes, and the twinge morphed into a sharp pang of remorse. He doubted Claire would approve of the way he'd 'taken care of' the angel who wore her father's face.

"Dean?" Sam's hesitant question broke into his thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. We should call Jody and Garth when we get in, give 'em an update. I'll call Garth, you call the girls." He leaned back against the seat.

"Okay. Sure." Sam nodded, and returned his attention to the road. After a moment, he turned the radio on. Dean felt a tired smile tug his mouth at the familiar music. Then his eyes closed, and he slipped into a doze.

They arrived at the Bunker a few hours later to find Crowley waiting at the door. The demon smirked at them. "Was beginning to think you boys got lost, delayed or eaten."

"Yeah sure." Dean shrugged his way out of the car. "How's Hell?"

The small grin vanished. "Most of them think I've pulled off the win of the century. All that dark energy. I've told them to cool their heels until I've fine-tuned the matter. That'll keep most of them in line. It did during the Purgatory run."

"I'm sensing a 'but' in there somewhere." Cas emerged from his car.

Crowley shot a glare at the angel, then heaved an exaggerated sigh. "But...I've had several of my topside operatives go MIA on me. Radio silent, and not in their assigned locations. I'll have to track them, and the general miasma that's been unleashed is dampening my ability to do so."

"Spectacular. Well, at least we'll know real quick what the Darkness does to demons." Dean glanced at the Bunker, then at the others. "Sam, why don't you take Crowley in, outfit him with his magic jewelry. I need to talk to Cas a minute."

Sam's lips compressed into a thin line, shoulders tensing, but after a moment, he nodded. "Sure." He gestured for Crowley to go inside ahead of him. "You know the way?" A shadow flickered in his eyes. "I can blindfold you if that makes it easier for you to remember."

Something equally dark flickered in Crowley's eyes. "No thanks. Always wanted to take in the scenery. And I've just been dying to get the grand tour." He walked into the Bunker, Sam stalking behind him.

Alone, Dean turned to Cas. The angel stood waiting patiently. Dean swallowed hard against a sudden lump in his throat.

Cas watched him a moment, concern in the blue eyes. "Dean...is something..."

"You were right." His voice rasped hard in his throat. "You were right about the Mark. About what it was doing to me. About how it was changing me."

He swallowed hard again. "You know...I think I knew that. I mean, when I first got it, before Metatron...I knew it was twisting me up inside. But after Charlie...I didn't care. Man, I just wanted those bastards to pay and pay good. I wanted them to feel the way she felt, cornered in that hotel bathroom. And having the Mark, having that calm violence, that feeling I could go through anything, it was just so damn good. Made everything so damn easy. I didn't have to care, didn't have to feel anything but that desire to kill whatever was in my way." He forced himself to meet the calm blue eyes staring back at him. "Including you."

Cas frowned. "Dean..."

"I'm sorry man." He looked away. "I just wanted to tell you that. I am. I wish to God I'd listened to you. When I think about what I did, the way I beat you...it twists me up in knots inside so bad I feel like I'm gonna puke. Especially knowing..." He had to clear his throat. "Knowing that I couldn't have done that if you hadn't been trying not to hurt me."

"It was the Mark. Not you. I know that." Cas's voice was steady, calm, a rock of reassurance and faith.

He wanted to accept it. But all he could see in his mind was Cas's bloody face, the weak hand grasping his wrist. "Cas, I..."

"I know. I know exactly how you feel."

The shuffle of shoes on concrete, and then Cas was in front of him. One hand reached out, and tentatively cupped his jaw. Thumb on his cheekbone, just below his eye. Index finger across the temple, other three fingers splayed along his jaw, the middle one curled around his ear. Dean recognized it. The exact position of Cas's hand, that awful night in the crypt with the angel tablet, when the angel had come back to himself. "I know...exactly what you must be feeling Dean."

Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah. But you fought the thing controlling you. You didn't leave me to bleed all over the floor. You didn't walk away saying you'd kill me. But I sure as hell did all those things to you."

The hand moved, fell to his shoulder. "Dean...we can...stand here, comparing our sins and debating who's worse until the world ends. It won't change how I feel. It won't change how you feel. And right now, it's not truly important. And I...I would rather..." Cas's voice softened. "I would rather forgive you, and chalk it up to the influence of the Mark, the same Mark that corrupted the strongest of God's angels, and let it be over with. We have no time, no energy to spare for anything else. And I...have no wish to continue to revisit that incident. It's over. You're free of the Mark. I know you won't do that again."

Cas was right. But still… "Promise me. Something like that happens again, you stop me. I don't want any more memories of holding an angel blade on you."

"As you wish. As long as the same applies in reverse." Dean looked at the angel in surprise. Cas shrugged. "The Darkness is very powerful. If a power such as Rowena's witchcraft can have an effect on me, then certainly it can. I may need stopping just as much as you."

Dean considered that, then nodded. "Okay. Fair deal." He looked into Cas's eyes, seeing only the kindness and forgiveness, the love, that was always present there. Cas was sincere, and seeing it in the angel's eyes soothed the ache in his gut. He clapped the angel on the shoulder. "Come on, let's go make sure Sammy hasn't killed Crowley, and then we've got phone calls to make and a strategy to plan."

"Of course." Cas smiled and followed him inside.

They found Sam and Crowley inside, seated at the library/reading room table. Sam had retrieved beers for all of them. Crowley was scowling at the silver manacle around his left wrist. Dean glanced at it. "Too tight?"

Sam smirked. "He's annoyed because I found one with a locking symbol on it. As long as he's wearing it, he can't smoke out of there."

"That seems a sensible precaution." Castiel settled himself in a chair. Crowley shot the angel a sharp glare, which Cas returned with a glower of his own.

"Fine. Whatever." Crowley turned his glare to Dean, and Dean shrugged. "What? You said yourself, you might go Darkside. We'll have a hell of a lot less trouble if you can't immediately smoke out if it happens. Gives us at least half a second more reaction time." Enough for an angel.

"Fine." Crowley's lips thinned, and then he clicked his fingers. A bottle of Scotch and a glass appeared. "Don't expect me to share."

"Wouldn't dream if it." Dean popped the top on his beer, popped Cas's as well "So, before we start making calls, any idea what we might be looking at?"

Castiel frowned. "There are no clear records. At the time of God's conflict...there were no physical manifestations of anything."

"Assume it's a super powered demon. Assume it can latch onto anything that carries a speck of darkness in it's heart." Crowley pursed his lips, sipping a long draught of scotch. "I don't know what it's done to my demons, but assume anything that's dark already will be powered up, so to speak." He tapped a finger on the rim of his cup. "Figure at some point we'll see the equivalent of an archangel, or worse, on the playing field. Whether it'll happen naturally, like the Devil, or only when you go on the offensive...if you can go on the offensive, though you lot practically live in that state."

"Can the insults. This is going to be hard enough without any of us making it worse." Dean huffed. "Great. So...we're just waiting for the Darkness to do something?"

"More or less." Crowley sipped his scotch. "Assume it won't go for you lads first. You released it, so expect to be spared until you make an enemy of it."

"So we have a day or two of grace, maybe." Dean ruffled a hand through his hair. "You said anything Dark ought to be powered up. So...what? We should assume every monster is gonna be whacked out on Darkness vibes?"

"Every monster, every spirit. Every human junkie and lost cause with their soul on the line, Winchester."

"Son of a bitch." Dean huffed again, then rose from the table. "Right. You two sit tight and don't try to kill each other again. Sam and I gotta make a few calls." He gestured his brother out into the kitchen area. "Might as well let them know now." Sam nodded and strolled deeper into the Bunker. Dean flipped out his phone and tapped a number.

The phone rang twice, and then a familiar voice came over the line. "Dean, amigo...hey. Haven't heard from you in a spell."

Dean smiled. "Hey Garth. How you doing?"

"Fine. Just fine. But hey, I'm real glad you called. Something weird happened yesterday. I don't know what it was. It's like, the whole sky clouded over all of a sudden, just pitch black clouds. But it wasn't like your regular old thunderstorm. The air felt all hot and heavy, kind of like a demon attack but major scale. It was seriously scary stuff, my friend. And the pack's been on edge since. They're still in control, no more Ragnarok like episodes, but I don't mind telling you, there's some heavy stuff in the air Dean." Garth's voice was a little breathless.

"I know. And I know what it is. It's the Darkness." He heard Garth make a questioning noise. "Look, imagine if you took the essence of a demon, distilled out all the human, cranked it up to two hundred and gave it a mind of it's own. Then cranked it up again."

"Damn, Dean. That's seriously isn't cool. You sure that's what this is?" Garth's voice was dead serious.

"Yeah. I'm sure. I got the info from experts, and I mean serious experts. The kind that make Bobby look like a complete amateur." Dean huffed.

Garth whistled. "Well, that's pretty serious. Got any suggestions on how we handle it?"

"Make sure your entire pack has anti-possession tattoos. Bless the water in every tank and pipe you own. Salt the place till you practically inhale the stuff, and put cold iron by every door. Question anyone and everyone you don't know, especially if you get a whiff of something rotten. Hell, question everyone you do know." Dean sighed. "And if someone goes rogue...put 'em down fast, cause you may not get a second chance."

"That's gonna be tough. This community doesn't like that kind of thing." Garth sounded worried.

"Yeah, well, they'll like it even less if their own folks start tearing them apart. This shit makes demons look tame." Dean huffed again. "Hell Garth, I had the King of Hell himself tell me that he'd rather be a new intake soul in Hell than deal with this crap topside. Seriously. It's that ugly."

Garth made an affirmative noise. "Yeah...that's some pretty heavy stuff." He sighed over the phone. "Okay. I'll do my best. Any more advice?"

"Yeah. Burn anything and everything you kill. Burn anything that dies near you. Burn anyone in the Pack who dies. Otherwise, there's no guarantee they'll stay dead. Death bit it when the Darkness was released."

"Say what?" It wasn't often that anything could shock Garth, but he sounded truly scandalized now.

"Death, like the Grim Reaper, the Horseman of the Apocalypse? He's dead. Turned to ashes. No one knows how that's gonna screw things up yet, not even angels and demons. At this point, we don't know if anything or anyone actually can die. So you be careful."

"Uh-huh. I'll watch my back and my pack double time and both eyes open, Dean. And you and Sam and your buddies do the same, okay?" Garth's voice was heavy with concern.

"We will. You call us if you need anything, okay?" He wasn't sure what he could do, what any of them could do, but he wanted Garth to know he could come to him.

"Roger that, Dean. I'll be sure to drop you a line if anything crazy comes up. And you do the same." Garth paused, then spoke again. "Catch you later Dean."

"Catch you later." Dean flipped the phone shut before Garth could say anything else. Garth was perceptive sometimes, and he didn't want the hunter to sense his still churning emotions.

He wondered if even Garth would be mellow and forgiving, if he told the werewolf hunter that he'd set the Darkness loose and killed Death.

***AGM***

Sam made his way into the depths of the bunker, considering his phone.

He did want to warn Jody, especially since she was watching Cas's kid. Or sort of kid. Jimmy's daughter, Claire. And Jody was a friend too. But there was one other person he kind of wanted to warn. He just wasn't sure how Dean would feel about it. He grimaced, then hit the button to dial the number on his screen before he could change his mind.

The phone rang twice, then clicked. A familiar voice came on the line. "I distinctly remember sayin' I did not want to hear from you fellas again. So this had better be good."

"Hey Cole. Nice talking to you too." Sam grimaced. He liked Cole, despite the fact that the man had tried to kill his brother once or twice. For a vengeance ridden hothead, he'd actually showed some pretty good sense. "And no, it's not good. Not even remotely. But it is something I think you'd like a heads up about. Especially since I know you have a wife and kid."

Cole made a disgruntled noise. Sam heard movement. Then Cole spoke again, sounding resigned. "Okay. Shoot."

Sam thought it over. Cole was too smart to take a half-truth. "There's this thing...this force. Essentially, it's kind of an original evil thing. According to what we've heard, it's what makes a demon a demon. When it's in diluted form. The stuff the Kahn worm did to you and Kitt? This is like a thousand times worse."

"Oh hell." He could hear the tension in Cole's voice.

"Yeah. Anyway, it was sealed away with the Mark of Cain. The biblical Mark of Cain. And Dean...well, he was affected by the Mark. It was driving him insane. Like, Demon Dean, without the ability to be exorcised or bound by holy water. Plus, there was the original Cain, and he was on this...killing spree until Dean stopped him." Cole made a sound of impatience. "Yeah, so...I didn't know the Mark was a seal for this...well, the angels call it the Darkness, so some friends and I basically obliterated the Mark of Cain."

"Son of a bitch." Cole's curse was a lot more heartfelt.

"Yeah. So, basically, the Darkness, which is the essence of all evil in the world, got released sometime yesterday. And according to the experts, every nasty thing you never wanted to know existed is about to get the demonic supercharged equivalent of an adrenaline shot. Or worse."

Cole was silent a minute. "You're telling me...demons, monsters, Kahn worms...all of those things are gonna be running around jacked up on demonic super-drugs?"

"Yeah. Basically. And there's more. Something...happened, and now we're not sure that anyone or anything can actually die. We're not sure they can't either, but there's a chance that anything you kill will come right back to life."

"Sweet mother of Jesus. What the hell? I've got friends in the field, Sammy." Now Cole had gone from upset to downright horrified.

Sam could sympathize. "I know. I'm sorry. Dean and I are working on it, and we've got some friends working with us. Good friends, and the type you seriously want in a situation like this. And there are some things you can do."

"Tell me. How do I protect my friends and family?"

"Burn anything you kill. Anything that dies near you. That'll at least slow it down. Beings without a solid body to come back to usually have a harder time causing trouble."

"Right. I'll pass it on. Make up some story about a super drug I encountered or something. Bio-hazard's always a good excuse." Cole sighed. "What else Sammy? How the hell do I protect the living?"

"Anti-possession tattoo. Get it for your whole family and any buddy you can get to wear it. Send me an email address and I'll send you a picture of what it looks like. I can also send you a picture for a Devil's trap. Put it near all your doors and windows, it'll slow a lot of shit down. Buy you a few seconds at least. Stock up on iron and silver weapons, and an absolute ton of salt. Lay down salt lines near your windows and doors, and bless your water tank. And question anything you think is off. We're not sure how bad this is gonna get, but I'm guessing it's gonna be Apocalypse style nasty." Sam hesitated a moment. "And if it gets too nasty out there and you need a safe house to crash in...call me and I'll give you directions to the bunker Dean and I live in. The place is basically a supernatural fortress. Maybe it won't be completely safe, but it's a hell of a lot safer than anywhere else if shit hits the fan."

"Got it. Salt, iron, silver and holy water, and a supernatural safe house to hide in. No offense Sammy-boy, but I sure as hell hope I don't have to take you up on that offer." Cole sighed.

"Yeah. Me too." Sam grimaced.

Cole huffed again. "Well, if that's everything, my son's waiting to play catch in the backyard. Wouldn't want to disappoint him. Especially since it sounds like I'm not gonna have a lot of time in the near future to play with the kid."

"Yeah. Sure. Go have fun with your kid. Just send me that email address."

"You'll have it before the day is out." There was a click as Cole hung up.

Sam took a breath, then dialed a second number. There were two rings, then a click. "Sam. I was just about to call you. There's some weird weather out here. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Sam grimaced. "Yeah, actually I do. And I have some good news and some bad news."

"No surprise there, with you boys." Jody sighed. "Fine. Good news first."

"We got the Mark off Dean. He's clean and back to normal." In spite of everything, Sam could feel his mood lighten a little. Dean was free of the Mark.

"Well Hallelujah. That's great news." Jody breathed out a sound of relief. "I was getting worried there for a bit. So was Claire." She sighed again. "Okay, so what's the bad news?"

Sam grimaced. "It turns out, the Mark of Cain was actually a sort of lock, used to contain the source of all evil in the world. The angels call it the Darkness, but basically, it's the power that spawned the Leviathan. And, according to Crowley, it's the power that actually makes a demon a demon. Demonic essence is apparently diluted Darkness."

"Crowley?"

Sam winced, remembering the one and only time Jody and Crowley had met. Crowley had tried to kill her with a hex bag that made her choke her own guts up. "Yeah. Long story short, we're kind of at a truce with him. He doesn't like the darkness any better than we do. Actually, he said he'd rather be a new soul in hell, or release Lucifer, than deal with this."

"Son of a bitch." Jody's curse was heartfelt and sharp. Sam sympathized. "That bad?"

"That bad. Worse, actually." Sam settled, bracing himself for the explosion that was likely to greet his next explanation.

"How the hell does it get worse, Sam Winchester?" Sam winced. Jody using his full name was not a good sign.

"Well, when the Darkness got released..." He paused, then rephrased what he planned to say. "Dean went off the reservation. Wound up beating the shit out of Cas, got a hunter killed cause he was too hyped up to avoid it. After that, he freaked out and summoned Death, like the actual Grim Reaper, rider of the Apocalypse Death, to try and get the Mark off, or at least make sure he couldn't hurt anyone else. Only, Death said he'd only help Dean if Dean agreed to kill me."

"Which obviously didn't happen. So what did?"

Sam swallowed hard. "Death said Dean could kill me, or he would, so Dean made a...a preemptive strike I guess. He killed Death. And now we're not sure what that means."

There was a moment of absolute silence. Then: "Dean...killed Death."

"Yeah. We're not sure how that works. Could be okay, except for some more insanity with the Veil. Or it could be that no one can die or cross over. Period. Cas is looking into it, but it could get pretty bad out there."

"No kidding. Sam...I love you kiddo, but you boys have started some pretty serious crap here." Sam started to apologize, but Jody cut him off. "No, no. I get it. You and Dean look out for each other. You always have. And you should. I'm just...this is...this is big, bucko. And I feel a little out of depth here. Vampires and werewolves and the occasional forgotten Goddess is one thing, but this..."

"Yeah. I know. Dean and I feel kind of out of our league too. Hell, I think even Cas and Crowley feel a little overwhelmed." Sam sighed. "Look, I wish I could tell you exactly what's gonna happen, and how. But I don't know. None of us do. Even Cas has no idea. I just wanted to warn you."

"Anything I can do?"

"Yeah. Keep yourself and Donna and the girls safe. Make sure you've got anti-possession tattoos for everyone. Use the salt and the holy water and iron and silver, carry it with you everywhere. Keep a weather eye out for anything, anything that makes you suspicious, nervous, anything. Just...be extra careful. And if you need to, come here. Me and Dean have this bunker in Lebanon Kansas. It's like a supernatural fortress here. If it gets too crazy, bring the girls and come here. The place is kind of old and creaky, but it's solid and it's got plenty of room. And it is warded with almost every spell ever known to mankind."

"Thanks for the offer. If it's as bad as you say, I may take you up on it." Jody sighed. "Well, if that's all I can do, that's all I can do. I'll keep a weather eye out, pass word on to the folks I know, like Donna. But keep me updated, you and Dean both. I want to hear about it if you so much as sneeze at this thing. You got it?"

Sam smiled. "I got it. Anything else?"

Jody paused. "You said Dean beat up the angel...the one who's kind of Claire's daddy. He okay?"

"Yeah. He's fine. Healed up like a normal angel this time, thankfully."

"Okay. I wanted to make sure. Girl's awfully attached to him." Jody huffed out a breath. "I gotta go. Thanks for the heads up Sam."

"Anytime." Sam heard a click and lowered the phone. He stood, staring at it a moment, then put it to sleep and slipped it into his pocket. Then he headed back to the library.

He ran into Cas in the front entry, heading for the stairs. "Cas?"

The angel's gaze flicked up the stairs. "I sense Hannah. She's here, waiting for me outside."

"Right. Go ahead. I'll head to the library to start research."

Cas nodded. "I believe Dean is making food, and Crowley is forming plans to search for his missing associates."

"Got it." Sam nodded, then watched as Castiel slipped past him and up the stairs.

 _ **Author's Note:** Next time...Cas talks to Hannah, and the boys get a better idea of what they're dealing with._


	6. Chapter 5: Gathering Information

**Chapter** **Five:** **Gathering Information**

Castiel strode out into the dim, cloud covered afternoon to find Hannah waiting for him. The angel was once again wearing a masculine vessel, one he recognized as being one of the gate guards for the portal. Hannah's face was less expressive in masculine form, but even so, he could read the other angel's agitation. And the way Hannah straightened when he approached, hope and relief in his face. "Castiel."

"Hannah." he nodded to him. He didn't know what to say, how to start. Hannah had a right to be angry with him, for having broken Metatron out of Heaven's jail. And for the mess they were now involved in.

Hannah looked him over. "Your Grace..."

"Is restored. Sam and I were able to force Metatron to restore my original Grace to me."

Relief washed over Hannah's face. "That is...good. Your wings..."

"Damaged. But mending, though very, very slowly." He sighed, shoulders flexing unconsciously. His feathers had been torn and burned away in the spell Metatron had used, and in the Fall, but he had hopes they would heal, eventually.

Hannah nodded, then frowned. "Castiel...why have you not returned Metatron to Heaven? Do you still expect him to help you with the Mark? You know he will not."

"No. No, I know Metatron doesn't have any information on the Mark. He admitted as much to me and Sam." Castiel grimaced. He knew Hannah wouldn't like what he was about to tell him, for any number of reasons. "Metatron...he escaped me. Incapacitated me with a spell while I was retrieving my Grace."

Hannah's expression went closed, forbidding. "Castiel..."

"There's more. Good news and bad news." Castiel sighed. "The bad news is that Metatron now has the Demon Tablet in his possession. I don't know how he intends to use it. The good news is that Metatron is mortal now. And wounded." He delved into a pocket of his coat and pulled out a shining vial of Grace. "I took his Grace, to prevent his treachery, and Sam shot him in the leg. He has the tablet, but he is also a crippled human."

Hannah huffed out a long breath of air. "I see. Well...I will have Heaven continue to look for him. But Castiel...surely you know there is a much greater problem to be addressed." Hannah's eyes flickered to the stormy sky. "Something has been unleashed, Castiel. Something terrible. Something worse than Lucifer." Hannah's gaze flickered back to his face. "Surely you felt it."

"Yes. I did." He swallowed hard. He knew Hannah was upset about Metatron's escape. When he told him what had been unleashed...

Hannah's eyes flickered back to the sky. "I have never seen or felt anything like this. This...this miasma, this poisoned air. It's like..."

"It's like a storm of demons. Like Darkness incarnate."

"Yes." Hannah must have read something in his voice, because his gaze snapped back to him. "Castiel...do you know something? About this?"

"Yes." He paused, getting his thoughts in order. "The Mark of Cain...it was originally given to Cain by Lucifer."

"Yes. I know that." Hannah folded his arms and watched him gravely.

"It was more than a mark of damnation. The Mark of Cain, it was originally the Seal given to the Morningstar to hold back the Darkness, to seal it away. It was the Mark that originally corrupted Lucifer and caused his Fall from Grace."

Hannah's expression went from focused to vaguely horrified. "Lucifer transferred the key to the Darkness to humans?"

"As part of his plan to corrupt them, yes." He hesitated, then decided to simply tell Hannah everything at once. "You and I both know the lore surrounding the Mark of Cain and the Seal of Darkness has been lost for eons." Hannah nodded. "Dean was going insane under the Mark's influence. Sam and I...we made the decision to destroy the Mark. We didn't know it was the same mark that sealed the Darkness away. When it was destroyed, removed from Dean, the Darkness was unleashed across the world."

"You unleashed the original Darkness, the source of all corruption, back into this world?" Hannah's voice was a whisper and he looked rather as if he'd been stabbed. Castiel didn't blame the other angel.

"Not intentionally, but yes. That is what you felt. The emergence of Darkness into this world."

"You are sure, Castiel?" Hannah's eyes were wide with horror.

"I am. Death told Dean what the Mark of Cain was. And there is more. Death himself was destroyed before the Darkness was released." He braced himself. He couldn't lie to Hannah, but what he was about to tell her would no doubt inspire a violent reaction.

"Destroyed? But how?"

"He threatened Sam Winchester. Dean Winchester took his scythe and killed him with it." He shifted his stance so he was between Hannah and the door to the bunker.

Hannah's expression went tight with rage. He stepped forward. Castiel caught him, stopping his movement. Hannah looked up at him with fiery eyes. "Castiel...Dean Winchester has killed one of the eldest. He must be punished."

"Dean Winchester should never have been forced to choose between his brother and his life. We should have prevented this from ever coming to pass." He held Hannah's eyes. "You said you understood that we were meant to protect and work for humans. Dean and Sam Winchester are extraordinary, but they are human." His hands clenched on the shoulders of Hannah's vessel. "We have known about the Winchesters since before their birth. With the extent of Heaven's meddling in their destinies...we might as well claim some responsibility for the current state of things. Dean should never have been set on this path. At the very least, I should have been there to prevent that. If you wish to blame someone, blame me."

Hannah stared at him a moment, familiar eyes of his friend and second in command staring out of an unfamiliar vessel. Then the tight shoulders relaxed. "As you wish." The angel sighed. "I suppose we do have more important things to worry about."

Castiel let him go. "We do. And we will need the Winchesters to help us with this. Most of the Heavenly Host is in Heaven. We need men like Sam and Dean to help us gather information and strategise a way to combat the Darkness. They may also have human methods that will help us find Metatron, before he can do any harm." Hannah gave him a sharp look and he corrected himself. "Any more harm."

"I suppose you are correct. Still..." Hannah sighed. "Castiel...will you not return to Heaven? Against a threat such as this..."

"I'm needed here. Someone has to remain on Earth, to watch over them. It's likely to be very dangerous and I...I have more practice than most." He hesitated. "I don't know what is going to happen. But the Darkness...it's dangerous. It's malevolent. And it will most likely attack Heaven at some point. It may even manage to corrupt an angel, as it did with Lucifer. It may even corrupt me." Castiel met Hannah's eyes. "You saw what I did after defeating Raphael and absorbing the Purgatory souls. You know what an angel corrupted by evil is capable of. What I am capable of. And if something like that happens again, no angels will survive. You can't allow that."

Hannah frowned, then nodded. "I understand." Hannah hesitated. "Castiel..."

"I'll stay in touch. But if I contact you, and you have any reason to doubt me, then don't come. Do you understand?" He knew Hannah had cared for him, and still might. He couldn't let that attachment endanger Heaven.

Hannah's chin raised. "Of course." He considered. "I will inform the guards at the portal to be extra vigilant."

"That's a very wise move. It might also be wise to erase the spell, unless the portal is in use. Otherwise...there are ways to activate it." Erasing the spell would effectively lock the door, preventing anyone from imitating what he and Sam had done.

"I will order it done as soon as I return." Hannah studied him a moment longer. "Is there anything you need, Castiel? Any way that we can assist you?"

He considered it, then shook his head. "No. There's nothing that can be done here until we know more about what releasing the Darkness will do." Hannah nodded and started to turn away, back to the car he'd brought. Castiel caught his arm. "Hannah, the demons...they'll probably be stronger, more dangerous. If you encounter any, be careful."

Hannah nodded again. "Of course. I will warn the others."

He let his former second in command go. "Good. Be careful."

Hannah nodded. "You as well, Castiel." Then he slipped into his car. Two minutes later, the tail-lights disappeared around the corner leading to the main road. Castiel watched him go, then turned and went back inside.

He found Crowley still sipping his Scotch at the table. Sam was wandering the library, laptop in one hand while he pulled books off the shelves with the other. The hunter looked up as he entered. "Dean's cooking dinner. I thought I'd start pulling together research books." A slight frown creased his brow. "I thought you were talking to Hannah."

"I was. But she's already started back. Heaven must be warded against possible attack, the sooner the better. I told Hannah we'd keep them updated." He began searching the shelves as well.

"Smart, I guess." Sam watched him. "So, I started pulling any books or files related to demons, Darkness, Hell, etc."

"Wise. But you should include any volumes on angelic lore as well. And any creation stories. Angels were involved in combating the Darkness, and creation deals largely with suppressing and altering it, so there may be clues in those accounts." Castiel found a book he'd referenced before, written in Enochian, and pulled it off the shelf. Then another volume, referencing angels. And one old slim volume of what he recognized were high-powered warding spells. He knew several, of course, being an angel, but humans had different approaches and at times they were more effective. He carried them all to the table.

Sam carried over two books of his own, then glared at Crowley. "You could make yourself useful."

Crowley smirked. "Where would be the fun in that?" He tipped a swallow of liquor into his mouth. "However, in interests of maintaining our working relationship, I'll have you know that I am currently trying to devise a plan which will allow me to retrieve certain items from my main fortress in Hell, without arousing suspicion among my already paranoid minions and causing a potential mass defection within the ranks, which would most likely not bode well for our current efforts."

"What items were you after?" Sam's scowl deepened.

A small, wintry grin ticked the corner of Crowley's mouth. "You honestly think humans are the only ones who possess lore, Moose? Hell has it's own collection of infernal writings. And as the King of Hell, I have the master key to them, so to speak. Given that the Darkness is an integral part of Hell..."

"You believe there is information in the writings of Hell that could provide further information." That actually made sense, much as Castiel didn't want to admit it.

Crowley shrugged. "It's a possibility. Getting to it isn't a problem. Collecting the information and getting it topside is another matter. My subjects, quite understandably, don't like you lot."

"Speaking of subjects, don't you have some rogue minions to be tracking down?" Dean appeared in the doorway with a plate full of burgers and another six-pack of beer.

Crowley scowled. "Working on it. It's hard to track a single demon when there's this much dark essence in the atmosphere."

Sam scowled. "Would it be easier in Hell?"

Crowley shrugged. "Possibly. I've some more resources there. The trick would be discretion, but it's nothing I haven't had to do a time or two before." He gave Sam a cool glare over the rim of his glass. "So eager to get rid of me, Moose?"

Sam snorted. "Always. But, in this case, I actually had a plan. You said you were having trouble figuring out how to get records out of Hell. Your phone has a snapshot function, right?"

"Naturally. Always keep up with the technology." Crowley's eyes brightened. "I think I see where you're going with this. Snapshot the records?"

"And email me the photos. Or text them to Dean, and we can print copies." Sam took the plate Dean handed him. "Wouldn't take much work to set up an email just for that purpose, pull the files and then dump the account as soon as you're done."

"That's actually not a half-bad plan." Crowley's mouth quirked. "Always knew you were a smart one." He tilted his glass in a mock salute.

Sam sneered. "Yeah. Sure." He tapped a button on his computer a few times. "You want an email account, or just Dean's cell?"

"Email. After that little Deanmon episode, most of my minions know Dean's number." Crowley huffed. "I'm surprised you boys haven't changed it yet."

"Yeah, well, changing numbers makes it hard for us to get in touch with everyone else. Hunters try to keep the same numbers so they can keep informed." Sam brought up another screen, typing with one hand while he picked up his burger and bit into it with the other. After a few minutes, he switched hands, wrote something down, then tore a page out of his notebook. "Here. Send everything to this email."

Crowley took the page. "Darkness, at . Short, to the point and vague enough." He folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket. Then he knocked back the last of his Craig. "I'll return when I have the information I need. Until then...try not to die." Then he strode out of the Bunker and was gone.

 *****AGM*****

The next two days were quiet. Dean worked on weapons and gear, stocking supplies and cleaning up the Impala. Sam did research and called other hunters, periodically stopping to check the email he'd set up for Crowley and transfer the contents to his hard drive. Castiel translated relevant sections out of the books that neither brother could read.

The news from the other hunters wasn't good. Though the leaden sky had cleared away after a while, the monsters had not. In fact, from the reports Sam was getting, things had taken an alarming turn.

Everything, vampires, werewolves, witches, even ghosts, were going crazy. One hunter reported that a ghost with dark burning eyes had attacked him, and crossed a salt line to do so. Another reported a transformed werewolf in broad daylight, and yet another called in that the local vampires had gone on a killing spree.

The reports of demonic omens were off the charts, at a level that hadn't been seen since the Apocalypse. Sam kept track of them on the War Room map in the bunker, but there was no pattern that any of them could discern, except that the point of origin was the diner where Dean had killed Death.

The only positive report was that what was killed seemed to stay dead. Natural deaths remained in the ground, though Sam kept a continuous monitor on Lebanon to be sure. The day after Crowley left he went down to the local police station and coroner's office in his FBI clothes asking for information on any unusual incidents. The cover story he gave was that the black cloud had possibly been some sort of biological or chemical accident, and they were observing for any possible contamination or ill effects.

Castiel contacted Hannah on the third day, and confirmed that the Gate to Heaven had been erased, a guard had been set at it's earthly location, and Heaven was sealed tight and ready for any possible attack. Alarms had been raised and all sections of Heaven were being monitored for any possible assault or corruption. Guards were required to change out every 24 hours, and submit to thorough evaluation by several other angels before they returned to duty.

There was no way to test Castiel himself, unfortunately. Sam mixed holy water in his drinks as a precaution, but there was little else to be done.

By the end of the week, things had taken a far more dire turn. Darkness infected humans had begun to appear. A maximum security prison experienced a violent and bloody break-out, as corrupted inmates tore apart bars and guards alike. Sam saw a report on the news and contacted Deacon. The old prison warden was retired, but still alive, and managed to reach out to the survivors. His report was troubling.

The inmates had sported black veins and mad eyes, as well as superhuman strength. Decapitation did kill them, so they weren't Leviathan, but it was unsettling just the same. After that, they started checking each other whenever they left the Bunker, searching for any sign of contamination.

The next week, things got worse. More humans, mostly the violent and insane, began showing signs of corruption by the Darkness. A man in Lebanon went mad and murdered his family and his neighbors before the police got a hold of him and locked him away.

Then, finally, near the end of the second week, Crowley returned.

He popped into the Bunker reeling and disheveled, a scowl on his face and a fair amount of blood on his clothes. "Bollocks."

Sam looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "What happened to you?"

"Bloody Darkness." Crowley snarled out the words, then set to making himself look a little more presentable. "After I finished copying the records, all the apparently relevant ones at any rate, I decided to follow through on Squirrel's suggestion and check in on one of my rebellious little runaways. So, I found the nearest one, and I went up to have a little chat and deliver a well-deserved warning about going off on his own."

"And?" Castiel came around the table.

"And the bloody prick was infected with the Darkness. I couldn't touch him, and I couldn't bloody well stop him either. I even stabbed the bastard with an angel blade. Didn't do enough damage to kill the bugger." Crowley snapped up a glass of Craig. "Apparently, those demons infected with the Darkness are practically invincible. Might be able to smite them with angel powers, but I couldn't test that. Naturally. But I'd be willing to bet that none of your normal exorcisms will work, boys."

"That's not good. If an angel blade doesn't work, then the Demon Knife is out."

"Think the cure ritual would work?"

Crowley snorted. "Think you could hold one of the infected long enough to perform that? I'd say it's a bit too time consuming."

Dean grimaced. "He's got a point."

"Holy fire, maybe? It works against angels, not demons, but..." Castiel trailed off.

Sam shrugged. "At this point, anything's worth a shot I guess."

"Yes." Castiel cocked his head. "It would also be prudent to find out if I can smite them."

"Yeah. We'll add it to our to-do list." Sam sighed.

"Great. Like that wasn't long enough already." Dean grimaced.

Castiel nodded. "We should get started."

 _ **Author's Note:** Things are heating up..._


End file.
